


Spring Fever

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Infidelity, Large Cock, M/M, Post-Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 04:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Remus shouldn't want Neville like this.





	Spring Fever

Something in Remus snaps. It's too much. Neville is standing there in his muddy t-shirt, his arms still wet to the elbow from cleaning up after digging his powerful hands deep into the soil of the flowerbeds. 

Without a word Remus grabs his face and kisses him. It's rough, almost violent. Neville staggers back against the outdoor pump. But he kisses Remus back with equal hunger, and he holds his arms out of the way rather strangely, as if he doesn't want to get Remus' clothes wet, and that only turns Remus on more.

Remus pushes him until his back is pressed against the solid stone wall of the house. Neville's resolve breaks and he puts his wet hands on Remus, drags him close by the waist and then grips his arse, kneads it and uses it to rub them against each other. It all happens right there in the bright spring sunshine, in plain view of everyone who might be looking.

They blindly stumble their way to the garden shed, because neither of them wants to stop making out. Inside the shed it's all shadow. Remus blinks to help his eyes adjust. Neville moves in to kiss him again, but Remus sinks to his knees.

He fumbles Neville's work trousers open and puts his face where Neville is straining against his pants. He groans at the scent enveloping him. It's embarrassing just how quickly his mouth waters, but he can't stop himself from suckling the trapped bulge through the cotton. 

"Shit, Remus."

He's big. Remus knew he would be. Although he knows how wrong it is, he had watched Neville, had stared at his crotch and his everything else over the last few days anyway. Unknowingly or not, Neville had displayed himself to perfection. Always dirt-streaked and sweaty, occasionally even shirtless, as he was bending and stretching with the physical effort of getting their garden in order for nothing but the material cost and the joy of helping a friend. But even the guilt of the lecherous old man lusting after a former student couldn't stop him from enjoying the view.

When he gets Neville's underwear out of the way, he can barely decide what to do first. It's long and thick and flushed with blood. Remus closes his fingers around it and strokes it reverently from the base to the tip and back, and then holds it steady and rubs his cheek along the shaft. Back and forth, back and forth, and he does the same with his other cheek. At last, he ducks lower to let the cock's underside slide along his nose and over his forehead, and looks up.

Neville is panting above him. He watches Remus with hooded eyes as Remus licks the length of his cock and tongues the slit to get a real taste.

Remus is too excited. He takes Neville in too quickly and chokes himself a little. It makes him moan to think what it would be like to be suffocated with that cock, to be smothered between those sturdy thighs.

It's not elegant, when he starts blowing Neville properly. He bops his head eagerly, and jerks Neville off where his mouth doesn't reach, while his other hand tugs on the heavy, furred balls. He doesn't care about the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes or the ache in his lips and jaw, stretched so wide around Neville's hardness.

Remus barely registers the hand buried in his hair, before it gently, but firmly pulls him off. Neville's eyes are wide, his pupils blown. His mouth is slack and very red. 

"Come up here."

As soon as he is back on his feet, Neville hoists him up and slams him back against the door. Remus basks in all that strength and energy, clutches broad shoulders as Neville kisses him.

Then Neville turns, carries him the few steps to the workbench and lowers him onto it. He stands, all dirty and sweaty, between Remus' thighs like something out of a dream. 

Remus gets his hands on Neville's t-shirt and pulls it up and off with the young man's help. And there is his bare chest and Remus busies himself with licking and touching wherever he can reach, while Neville opens his trousers and finally gets his hand around Remus' cock.

Remus thrusts into the grip shamelessly and watches Neville twitch as he twists a nipple between his index finger and thumb. 

Remus grins. "You like that," he says, and taking hold of the other nipple as well, does it again.

Neville moans into his neck. Then they are kissing again, sloppy and desperate, until Remus feels himself being pulled off the workbench. Remus' trousers and pants join his shoes on the ground, before he is turned around to face the workbench. Neville crowds against him, so that he has to put his hands flat on the wooden surface to stay upright.

"Can I?" Neville asks, his arms firmly around Remus.

Remus hesitates for a moment to ask himself, if he is really doing this. He nods.

Neville flicks his wand. There's lube and the familiar sensation, and then Neville carefully guides himself inside.

"Oh, fuck." Remus grits his teeth against the pain.

"Sorry. More lube?"

Remus nods, humming. He doesn't want to exacerbate the sheepish tone in Neville's voice.

"Ah, shit. That was too much. Shit. Sorry. Shit."

Remus can feel the excess lube running down his thighs, while Neville's trembling hands try to contain his mistake, before he helplessly wipes them on his low-riding work trousers. Some of it has splattered on the floor, and Remus sees Neville staring at it and knows he's thinking of getting rid of it right then and there.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll clean it up later," Remus says and turns his head to draw Neville into a kiss. "Come on, fuck me."

He places Neville's hand resolutely back on his hip and pushes back. It's much smoother now. Neville rocks into him with shallow thrusts, slowly going deeper until he's fully inside, which makes Remus a little light-headed. They keep still for a moment, only breathing and feeling out their connection.

Then Neville puts his arm across Remus' chest, holds him tightly, and uses his body to bend Remus further over the workbench until he's leaning on his forearms. Remus sighs and moves on instinct, spreads his legs further and arches his back. And then Neville really fucks him.

It's hard and deep and raw. Hinges creak, wood bumps against wood. They're getting sweat and sand and sawdust all over each other.

None of this has any business to feel so real, so right, and nothing like the hollow mantra Remus constantly repeats in his head, telling himself that he's happy and safe. That he isn't bored and lonely and heartsick. That he isn't too weak and damaged to move on from his life of war, while everyone around him effortlessly prospers.

"Fuck, so tight," Neville pants, his rhythm faltering.

Remus chuckles, a little breathless as well. "I'm not tight. You're just huge."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, enormous. And so good." Remus' eyes close and he groans. "You have no idea how good this feels."

"Yeah?"

Remus smiles. "Yeah."

His sense of time goes wobbly, so he doesn't know how long it lasts. He only knows that he's too far gone and that it takes barely a touch on his cock to make him lose it. Somewhere in the confusion of his orgasm, Neville comes too and fills him up.

Everything in the aftermath is a little strange. They clean themselves up as well as they can. There is a soft smile on Neville's face and a spark in his eyes. Remus hugs him and Neville holds him close, although it's clear that he doesn't know how to interpret Remus' mood.

Neville whispers: "I wanted to do this for a long time. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance."

Remus places a lingering kiss on his jaw and strokes his wheat-coloured hair, which looks like a promise of summer and ease and love. The owl beak knocking against the shed's window ends the moment.

Remus recognises the bird and the seal at once. "My partner will be home tonight."

"Yeah, I should go." Neville pauses. "There's, well, there's still a couple hours work left. I'd like to come by tomorrow morning to finish up."

"Yes, of course. That's fine. We can have lunch after."

And then Neville is gone and Remus feels like the walls of the shed are closing in around him.


End file.
